“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”
“Please, just leave.” She sounds exasperated. Fearful.
“No.”
“Why do you even care? Just fire me and get it over with.”
Alexander chews on the inside of his cheek, holding back his frustration. He needs answers. “It’s like you said,” he says gently, carefully. “We’re… We’re friends, aren’t we?” The word is heavy on his tongue, new and untested. “I just... I just want to help. I’m sure you have your reasons, but you need to talk to me. Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t hide, Eden. Let me in.” And then, so soft that it’s barely a whisper, “Please?”
Eden doesn’t say anything for a long time. A part of him is worried that she’s gone, that this is the last he’ll see of her.
He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears her undoing the locks, the door creaking open only an inch. The edges of her eyes are red with the threat of tears, her lips chapped from all her worrying. Eden looks up at him and—shit—she looks so small and vulnerable and afraid.
“Tell me the truth, Eden.”
She bites her bottom lip, looking defeated and on the verge of breaking down. “It’s a long story,” she mumbles.
“I’ve got nothing but time.”
Eden pauses, regarding with the utmost suspicion. Alexander makes no move, desperate for her trust. If she doesn’t entirely believe what he’s saying, then he needs to prove through body language alone that she’s not in trouble. He’s here to help, not to be a foreboding presence—as hard as that might be for a man his size.
She eventually sighs and steps to the side, opening the door for him. “It’s easier if I just show you,” she says.
Alexander has no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but he’s thankful to be making progress.
* * *
He stares at the money on her coffee table. She’s laid everything out, wads upon wads of cash in front of them.
“Holy shit,” he mutters.
“I know.”
Alexander sits beside Eden on the couch. It’s small, and he’s—well—tall and big and takes up over half of the space. Eden has her fingers laced together, hands placed atop her lap like a student preparing for a scolding at the principal’s office.
He looks at her, bewildered. “You’re sure you’re not in trouble?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m not in trouble.”
“You don’t owe someone money? Are you involved in… Shit, I don’t know. Drugs or something?”
“No.”
“Sex work?” he asks in a small, tight voice. “Trafficking? Theft? Are you on the run from the law?”
“No. Nothing like that. I’ve just been… saving.”
Alexander takes a deep breath. He counts, makes an estimate. There’s almost fifteen thousand dollars here, more or less.
“This should be in a bank.”
“I know. But I...”
“What is it?”
Eden swallows. Alexander’s entranced by the way her throat rises and falls with the action. He dares to reach out. Just this once. He gingerly places his hand on her wrist, just to show her that he’s there and it’s okay and that he’s listening.
“Eden.”
